Sacrificing Happiness
by Angaaldaien
Summary: Legolas encounters unexpected obstacles in his quest to save the king, and Middle Earth. Slash A/L, angst
1. Default Chapter

Title: Sacrificing Happiness  
Author: Angaaldaien@hotmail.com  
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Legolas  
Rating: part 1 -PG  
Summary: Legolas encounters unexpected obstacles in his quest to save the king, and Middle Earth  
Disclaimer: Purely for entertainment purposes, no intention of infringing upon property rights  
Warning: Angst/drama  
Authors Note: The Aragorn and Arwen romance has disappeared, in fact, Arwen has seemingly disappeared Does not follow plot in either book or movie canon- if you're a stickler for either, I suggest you don't read this. This is my first attempt at LOTR. Elvish is indicated by ' and unspoken conversation with Galadriel by ~~  
Feedback: Please, it's what keeps me writing.  
Date of posting: 7/30/02

Sacrificing Happiness  
Part One: A Second Meeting  
By Angaaldaien

Rivendell was a place of dreams, except that it existed. Nothing compared to the beauty that Rivendell possessed, even the stories that emanated around Middle Earth barely began to describe the elegant architecture, the lush gardens, and the populace themselves. Aragorn felt himself enveloped by the sensations that he encountered upon entering the city. All at once, they were overwhelming, each demanding his attention, and Aragorn felt the tinge of excitement that he always felt when he came to Rivendell. By trained nature, Aragorn was withdrawn, but Rivendell would make even the loneliest hermit break his shell.

Normally, Aragorn would feed upon his childish desire to explore, but this visit was not like the others. The small hobbits by his side, albeit expressing their own tremendous exuberance, reminded of his purpose and restrained him from disappearing into the streets of the Elven city. They did not know the danger that the ring, which they carried, possessed. They could guess at it, perhaps touch upon darker matters than they had ever thought existed until now, but their sheltered minds had not the capacity to visualize the entire meaning of the existence of the ring. Not yet anyway.

Aragorn led the four battered hobbits to Elrond, who anticipated their arrival. It is good to see you again, Aragorn, Elrond began, majestically drawing himself to his full, impressive stature.

If only I were only here to visit, Aragorn replied grimly.

Not one to dally, Elrond remarked with a small smile. But, let us not too hastily begin before we know who these young ones are.

The four hobbits introduced themselves, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. Now, let not the hospitality of Rivendell be disputed. My merry hobbits, if you would please enjoy a refreshing bath Elrond suggested.

The hobbits tittered in delight, and were led off by an attendant. Frodo, if you would kindly stay for a moment further. No more of a suggestion was it a command, and the grimy hobbit could not refuse.

We are alone, Elrond stated, abruptly dropping his formal guise. I have scheduled a private meeting for the races of the Middle Earth, to discuss the future of that which you carry. Elrond gestured towards Frodo. Since your arrival, all have assembled but one party. A moments hesitation, and Elrond began again, Never mind that, the last party is approaching.

Neither Aragorn nor Frodo heard the rapidly approaching footsteps until a few moments later. The footsteps were light but undisguised, seemingly in a hurry.

Lord Elrond.' The being, now revealed to be an elf, knelt in obvious respect. I humbly apologize for my party's tardiness.'

Legolas, Legolas,' the elder elf chuckled. How many times have I told you? Stand, Prince of Mirkwood, you needn't kneel, for we are friends. Don't ask me to repeat that again, young lad.'

Your mercy is too kind,' Legolas rose and smiled, still adopting a formal air. However, much to the contrary the two elves clasped in a warm hug of familiarity. Apparently the elf had freshened up; instead of wearing traveler's clothing, he wore traditional elven robes in the hues of a muddy green. Aragorn, who had experience with elven royalty, was surprised that this prince wore the clothing of the common elf, the only hint at royalty was the superior way his carried himself. Naturally, the elf was a trained warrior, but to Aragorn he looked more like an ethereal being, his lithe movements hardly rustled his clothing, accentuating his grace, and the loose robes made him appear slighter than he was.

I was just telling the man and hobbit of the meeting deciding the future of the ring. Now that you are here, we shall meet tomorrow morning. We cannot lose any more time. Elrond turned back to the hobbit, marveling at the two elves. Frodo, I apologize for delaying you from your bath, do go and once you and your friends are clean, you are welcome to join us for dinner.

Frodo's eyes gleamed at the mention of dinner. How long had it been since he last ate a decent meal? Too long for a hobbit, was all Frodo knew. Thank you very much Lord Elrond, Frodo chirped as he followed an attendant towards the baths.

Let us reconvene later, perhaps during dinner? Regretfully I must attend to other matters at hand, Elrond said, signaling that the session was over.

The two remaining princes left. Legolas turned to Aragorn. Greetings, I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. He inclined his head slightly in respect. And you are Aragorn yes?

Slightly startled, Aragorn asked, How do you know who I am? He had never met Legolas before, Aragorn was sure of it. He would have certainly remembered meeting the elf prior to today. Although Legolas looked similar to many others of his kind, he had a certain aura about him of respect, superiority, fluid strength, but reigned control. His voice was not unlike the song of birds, but deeper and more melodious than theirs would ever be.

Still direct as always I presume. Legolas lightly chuckled with the laughter of the birds, an elven quality, though few elves possessed it. Aragorn was entranced beyond that which he cared to think. Perhaps, I may be allowed to tell of it at dinner? It appears that you are wanted somewhere else. Aragorn followed Legolas' eyes, seeing the hobbits wildly gesturing for his attention.

A slight sign of exasperation escaped worn lips. Then I can wait until dinner. Aragorn turned towards the hobbits. They had terrible timing, but as their protector, Aragorn had to secede his interests for theirs. Aragorn was desperate to know from where this lofty elf thought he knew him. A mix of thoughts tumbled around the man's mind, chastising himself for being attracted to a lovely being who was all too sublimely arrogant, and all too unreachable. Why would an elf ever love a man?

Legolas went on his way, dropping the smile that adorned his face when talking to the man. Regardless of Aragorn's rugged handsomeness and cordiality, such would usually fascinate the elf, for men were unique in nature, Legolas could not help but reminisce of a time, but a blink of an eye ago. Mindlessly Legolas wandered until he knew where he was, but not how he came to be there. Legolas was so entranced in his thoughts, that he did not even realize that passing of time, for such was the gravity of the elf's nature.

***

Very few years back, Legolas, already serving as a representative for his father, arrived in the kingdom of man to celebrate the birth of the king's first child. The reigning king had invited all from far and wide, and Legolas was there out of courtesy. Although man's time may be short-lived, his blood flows on and revenge is a concept made reality when in the mind of man; instead of risking anger from the king, Legolas came to pay the respects for the Mirkwood elves; but he came, for something more.

The small child was adorned with many gifts, jewels, riches, and land. It was a frail being, however, it's life force flickering in the winds of chance. Small in the hands of its mother, it gave sound that resounded around the palace upon its whims, to which the mother knew not how to react but to cradle her child whispering motherly thoughts. The elf stared at the child, becoming fattened with material wealth, and wondered how it came to be that a tiny child could have such a loud voice.

Legolas offered what only an elf could offer. He offered a promised home for the young prince among the elves; if ever he needs welcome or help, Legolas promised his race's hospitality. And, he promised that he would protect the baby with his life. The king and queen thanked Legolas profusely, aware that their newborn son was being offered an exceptional gift.

Legolas parted the dark brown hair on the baby's forehead and kissed him, as was customary. The baby pulled on Legolas' long sunlit locks, refusing to let go. We're terribly sorry, the parents apologized, prying the baby's hand loose.

The baby, Aragorn.

***

Legolas dipped the tip of his foot into the stream by which he found himself. His youthful age reflected to him as older than it was. Three thousand years were nothing to an elf, but in merely a quarter of a century, a man could mature to be in his prime. Man is temporary, like the passing wind. The stream massaged Legolas' toes and he felt himself wander off again, deep into his mind, lamenting the passing of time. So engulfed was he, that it became night and had the lights of Rivendell not called him back, Legolas would not have surfaced from his own contemplations.

Aragorn returned to his lodging, heavily aware that Legolas had not shown himself for dinner. Melancholy coated his actions into lethargic movements of a turtle, and Aragorn incorrectly substituted his consumption of fine elvish wine, the single substance that could affect the mind of an elf in ways wine from grapes could not, as the cause. He lay to rest, tired of the night.

The sun rose to find the formation of the Fellowship. The sight of the One Ring called to them all, and it was no hard task to speculate upon how the ring could be used in each of the nine's own interests, no matter how pure the desire was. All felt the desire coursing through their blood, and the immediate repulsiveness from their own consciousness rebuffing the insistent call. A small sigh of relief escaped Aragorn's lips when Frodo volunteered his services in carrying the ring. The innocent hobbit was right for the task.

The nine departed amongst their separate ways, each preparing for departure before the return of the sun again. A second dinner was planned, this as a celebration of the formation of the fellowship, and a farewell. Aragorn was determined to make sure that Legolas arrived. Aragorn called, instead of heading towards his quarters. Why weren't you at dinner last night?

Legolas' pale complexion gave him a small smile. I had become distracted. He examined who the man had become since infancy, and realized that he was rather handsome. His ranger clothing was replaced with fine silk that did nothing but tantalizingly accentuate his firm body. The faint stubble at the man's chin gave him a rugged appearance, and the uncombed hair added to the affect. Legolas caught himself speculating upon how unique each member of the race of man was, for he had never seen one like Aragorn.

Aragorn watched as Legolas' eyes flitted over him, and wondered what the elf saw. Did he like it? Aragorn shook the thought from his head, Legolas was an elf, and he was but a man, never anything more. If only Aragorn glanced at the ring. No. Aragorn jerked his gaze from Frodo, back to Legolas. I would still like to hear of where you know me from.

I would never miss two Rivendell banquets, and certainly not when it is to wish us well, Legolas told him. Dark thoughts tainted Legolas' mind, he knew it would be his last. The man, Boromir, had been correct in his evaluation. The task at hand was not of easy doing. I have not forgotten my promise to you.

Then I shall expect you there.

Legolas briefly watched the man depart. How ironic that elves have the allowance of years in which to live, yet it was a single man who changed Middle Earth, and a single man who would change it again. But what do elves care for Middle Earth? Legolas reminded himself of the days when he would play amongst his siblings, the wonders of Middle Earth infinite and daring him to explore. His father would tell him stories of the mines, the humans, and the beautiful elven cities. The lust for adventure grew with the excitement, and Legolas thought that he would never wish to journey across the sea.

Unbidden, Legolas' train of thought darkened as it drove deeper into his memory. He was the youngest of Thranduil's children, but not rightfully so. It was little known, and Legolas felt the bitterness well up at his repressed memory of his father's true last child. Legolas cherished the memories of his younger sister, yet they were permanently tarnished. The day Legolas became an adult was the day his sister journeyed beyond Middle Earth. Legolas' sister had been spoiled by a man, and could no longer bear Middle Earth. As she left, Legolas felt himself harden in reaction, for it was the breaching of a child's protected world, and with the first taste of darkness the innocence ran. He felt his features twist in slight agony. Reason would have it that men had to be watched.

But Legolas found his reason crumble to dust with the arrival of Aragorn.

Elvish wine meandered its way down many throats, and Legolas' was no exception. The warm fizzing it left behind lightened his heart, if only temporarily. He did not want to be reminded of the quest, but Aragorn's presence across the table did little to diminish the thought. He gazed at the elf with intensity, watching as each drop of wine found its way down the pearly column. Would you have me tell you of our meeting? Legolas abruptly asked, shaking Aragorn from his reverie.

Yes, I am quite anxious to find out. I rarely forget those whom I've met, and I'm afraid that I have forgotten you.

Tis excusable that you have forgotten me, since it was when you were but a few weeks old when I first met you. I was there to offer you the gifts of the elves.

Aragorn gazed at Legolas with shock. Smoothly, Aragorn hid it, but not before Legolas caught the emotion. What was it that you gave me? Aragorn inquired.

Simply, I gave you the hospitality of the elves, Legolas caught himself before he added and my life. Galadriel had warned him, that Aragorn was not to know of Legolas' second promise. The day would come when Legolas would protect Aragorn from a fatal wound, offering his life instead, but if Aragorn knew he would attempt to change his fate. It's the only way the Fellowship will succeed; the fate of Middle Earth depends upon this single man's survival,' Galadriel had whispered in his head.

Then, Legolas had wondered with bitterness why he cared for Middle Earth. But he already knew the answer. He could not knowingly allow the millions of lives on Middle Earth to perish, in return for his. With an imperceptible sorrow, Legolas gave his life to Middle Earth.

Suddenly, the dinner that Lord Elrond had prepared did not appeal to Legolas. I must excuse myself, Legolas sadly told Aragorn, getting up. Aragorn rose alongside. No, you should stay.

What ails you, Legolas? Aragorn whispered. He saw the elf's sadness flit by within his eyes, but from what, he did not know. I will not have you leave without me unless I know why.'

Why,' Legolas softly repeated, weighting the word with gravity. That I cannot say.'

The elf left when Aragorn did not reply immediately. Sitting again, Aragorn's brow creased in frustration. He desperately wanted to gain the elf's trust, and for some obscure reason, Aragorn knew that if he did not gain access to this secret, the elf would perish. An elven secret is well kept, but Aragorn had long lived with the elves. He would find his way, the man was determined.

The fellowship departed early the following morning. Legolas attempted to avoid Aragorn, but the man seemed to be everywhere he was. It was meant to be a failing attempt, Legolas realized. Aragorn was irresistible to the elf- so much man but so much elf. It was the unique combination of characteristics from both races that lured Legolas to the man. It made him forget the sorrow of never being able to see across the sea and of his sister's sadness. His long years would culminate into something of significance, for although Legolas knew he could never return to his childhood, perhaps other young elves could keep it with them longer. He knew not how it had come to pass, but he found that he would willingly give his life for Aragorn. But the sadness stayed behind, reminiscent of possibilities Legolas was too afraid to take, even with his time becoming ever shorter.

Aragorn's eyes imperceptibly followed the elf's every movement. Brilliant blue eyes met his and tore away. A light blush tinged the edges of Legolas' face, but Aragorn could not be certain with the dim lighting of his torch. The dark halls of Moria were sullen with unnatural death, and imaginary shadows playing upon the walls. They danced their way, just beyond the reaches of the torch, hemming the Fellowship in. Aragorn knew not what to do; Legolas was sinking into himself and no matter what Aragorn attempted, Legolas would not divulge the source of his sadness. It was eating Aragorn's heart to see Legolas' eyes full of regret. They stared beyond him, through him, but also into him, piercing his soul with their grief.

The sadness weighted in Legolas' soul increased with the death of Gandalf, and the elf knew his time was now soon. Aragorn could feel the sorrow emanating from them all in waves; he knew the fellowship must rest before it continued. We must make Lothlorien by nightfall, Aragorn insisted.

Lothlorien,' Legolas muttered. Galadriel waited there. Aragorn watched Legolas in hope of further enlightenment, but none was provided. Instead, Legolas cast his eyes upon Aragorn, filling the man with need to comfort the elf.

It was not until their blindfolds were removed that Aragorn would next see the elf's eyes. In contrast to Rivendell, Lothlorien was a place of holy beauty. Light filtered through the trees, reminding the entire company that there was much beauty left in Middle Earth. Yet Legolas' eyes did not light in wonderment, rather their weariness increased. Soon, it would be soon.

~I would have you come with me to the mirror, Legolas~ A voice drifted in and out of his head, coloring it with unspoken words.

~That I would have as well~

~You have faithfully kept the future hidden~

~Yes~

~But I cannot know for how much longer~

~What is it that you see?~

~Your resolve will crumble; the truth will be known~

The connection was lost; Legolas lifted his eyes to gaze upon the lady. Tonight,' she mouthed.

Aragorn watched Legolas, even as his private conversation with the lady occurred.

~What troubles you so?~

~Legolas. He is hiding something. Do you know of it?~

~You are both hiding from each other~

~What do you mean my lady?~

~What you hide from him, he hides from you; whilst he realizes it, you do not~

Aragorn's eyes tore to Galadriel, in time to see her mouth tonight' to Legolas.

~Do not tempt me, my lady!~ 

~You will not realize, not until it is too late~ But Galadriel would reveal no more.

The Lady motioned to Haldier, standing attentively to the side. Haldir beckoned. Your quarters are awaiting.

Tonight, Aragorn decided. Tonight was the night that he would reveal Legolas' secret, and discover his own. 


	2. The Pain in the Mirror

Sacrificing Happiness  
Part two: The Pain in the Mirror  
By Angaaldaien

Summary:   
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas   
Rating: part 2- R/NC-17  
Genre: Angst, drama   
Notes: The Aragorn and Arwen romance has disappeared, in fact, Arwen has seemingly disappeared Does not exactly follow plot in either book or movie canon- if you're a stickler for either, I suggest you don't read this. This is my first attempt at LOTR. Elvish is indicated by ' and unspoken conversation with Galadriel by ~~  
Email: angaaldaien@hotmail.com

Date of posting: 8/3/02

Date of revision: 11/14/02

Legolas arose, careful not to disturb anyone of his sleeping companions. He slipped between the trees and down the path where he knew Galadriel waited. They both understood the quest was no longer about the ring bearer; it was about the survival of the king. The survival of the king guaranteed the success; the failure of the elf meant the end. 

Aragorn arose slightly after, and stealthily followed Legolas to the clearing, where he chose a spot overhead. Galadriel had been waiting for Legolas to arrive; she delicately poured the water into the mirror upon his arrival. What the mirror tells me I cannot entirely interpret; perhaps you will have more luck.'

I will try.'

Again Aragorn caught himself marveling at the levels of beauty Legolas' voice took when speaking Elvish. Aragorn would have the elf speak in Elvish forever. No, he would have much more than that; he would have the elf open his heart to him. The pain that Aragorn felt when Legolas schooled his features had yet to be explained to him; but he was determined to unmask the elf tonight.

Legolas paused at the rim of the mirror. There is one thing I do not understand, my lady. Why must it be I?' 

Only you he would allow; only you does he feel love.' 

Aragorn's almost instantaneous jealousy was stinted when Legolas paused, as if in pain, and took a step away from the mirror. Aragorn could see a tear slide halfway down his face before it was angrily swiped away. All the regrets of life and all the pain in death focused itself into that single tear, only to be dashed aside as if it didn't exist. Why do you play with me Galadriel?' 

I am not playing, Legolas. I am far from it. I felt it within his desire to understand you.' 

Then why tell me this?' Legolas whispered, afraid of his interpretation of Galadriel's words. 

It is from love that you will sacrifice; it is in love that you will die. I could not see further than that. But,' Galadriel paused, the mirror has shown me the descent of darkness yesterday. What the mirror shows now, I do not know. I was hoping that you would view what it has to reveal.' 

Aragorn stared sharply at Legolas, waiting for the explanation to the vague prophecy of love, sacrifice and death. But all Legolas said was Yes.'

He approached the mirror, but what the mirror showed him was not the future. Instead, Legolas gazed back upon himself, with the sadness encroaching upon his features. How could fate have placed him in such a position? Yet Galadriel had warned him before; the mirror had showed her of his failure to himself, Aragorn, and Middle Earth. Legolas reached with his hand towards the image in the mirror when he realized that the scenery had changed. It was he, but no longer was the shimmering path leading into the clearing behind him. The mirror showed Galadriel waiting expectantly, and behind her, hidden in the trees overhead, two blue-gray eyes, staring intently. Legolas could place those eyes anywhere – Aragorn's.

Legolas whipped his head up, too emotionally unstable to hide his distraught nature. What had the man heard? How had he known that Legolas would be here? He looked directly into Aragorn's eyes, which widened and disappeared, and said in elvish, The mirror did not show me the future.'

The future must be too vague for it to decipher,' Galadriel breathed softly, in weighted relief. She had done her part; it was now up to the man and the elf to decide for Middle Earth. ~Go, Legolas~

Awareness softly made itself known. Legolas saw that she had saved them from failure. ~Thank you, my lady~ In a spring of step that had not been felt for years, Legolas turned and ran towards his future.

The Lady wept at the retreating back. By bringing the pair closer to success, she brought Legolas closer to death. There was no other way, there is no other way,' she consoled herself, lamenting her role in the matter.

Legolas paused at the rim of the basin, gazing down at Galadriel. He watched a moment more as the lady looked into the mirror, becoming so entirely entranced she did not notice Legolas' continued presence. Thank you,' Legolas said again, turning to leave. His resolve was strengthened. Aragorn would not find out of the matter.

Aragorn sat at the base of a tree. He knew Legolas would return this way, and waited to intercept the elf. Listening to Legolas and Galadriel had done little to appease the man's uncertainties; instead, many more questions were in need of answers. The man was not dull; he knew that the person whom they spoke of was he. Galadriel had provided him with too many clues for it to be otherwise. And Aragorn would not dance around the subject; it had been far too long that the man desired to understand the elf.

Legolas was silent in his coming, but not blind to the figure on the path. Aragorn's slumped figure contrasted the whiteness of the tree trunk. Aragorn, come let us return, Legolas offered his hand to the man. Perhaps we may talk along the way. 

Aragorn grasped Legolas' hand and pulled him down to his height. I have a better idea. Without further warning, Aragorn brought Legolas into a clearing on the other side of the tree. A small stream trickled by, becoming the only sound to the otherwise silent clearing. The trees surrounded the pair, leaving them in privacy. Legolas,' Aragorn breathed his name into the air, marveling at the smooth slide it had upon his tongue. Tell me what business Galadriel has with you.'

Legolas glanced at their still connected hands. When Aragorn noticed, he pulled away, blushing faintly. What you saw was nothing of importance, we should return.' It pained Legolas to lie to the man he loved, but there was no other way; keeping the distance of friendship was the safest way of preventing the man's death.

Why do you lie to me?' Aragorn softly inquired in disappointment.

Legolas stared at the ground, afraid that Aragorn would see his desperation. He wished the man would be angry, even spiteful – anything but sad. Nay, I do nothing of the sort. What does it matter?' Too late Legolas realized he did not want an answer to his question. Galadriel's words of love haunted him; they could not be taken to heart, only failure would result. Wouldn't it?

Aragorn grasped Legolas' chin, gently forcing it up until the elf met his eyes. Why do you hide from me Legolas? I would give you my life.'

Horror glinted in the blue depths, but the slight panic was quickly dispersed. Nay, do not. I will pretend you had never spoken such words.' He wrenched away from the calloused hand and began to leave, too afraid of the response.

Aragorn did not think. Impetuously he grabbed Legolas' retreating shoulder and turned the elf for a desperate kiss. It was a bruising kiss, and Legolas struggled briefly before he melted below the man's insistent tongue. It was not total submission; Legolas sparred with Aragorn until the man had conquered the whole of his mouth. With each victory gained over Legolas' tongue another barrier fell in Legolas' soul. Aragorn tasted the elf, tasted the faint sweetness of honeydew and the musk, which only Legolas could taste of. The kiss turned gentle and massaging, as if apologizing for its earlier invasion. A reluctant acceptance was reciprocated, and Legolas moved to deepen the kiss.

A hint of moisture brushed upon Aragorn's cheek and he broke away. Glimmering streaks shimmered down Legolas' face, long withheld tears finally breaking past the mask. Tell me why you cry,' Aragorn whispered, lovingly brushing the tears away. He had loved Legolas all along; if the man had cared to dwell on the thought, he knew it had been obvious.

Don't stop,' was all Legolas could plead.

It was no answer, but Aragorn did not care. He pushed Legolas up against a tree and plundered the willing mouth. Sensuous heat enveloped Aragorn's tongue, the slickness accommodating. I had no idea,' Aragorn hissed in between kisses, that I could love an elf.' 

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down Legolas' face. It was too much for the elf. There were too many conflicting feelings waging their wars within his soul. The happiness Legolas felt at the words should have known no bounds, but were fettered by the knowledge that he would never live to share anything with the man. Or the man would never live to share anything with him. Would it be better to create only to destroy, or to neither create nor destroy?

Legolas?' It hurt when he did not respond immediately; Aragorn had been so sure that the elf reciprocated the sentiments. Perhaps it is better if we returned,' Aragorn said, resignation apparent. He stepped back from Legolas.

Legolas turned his blue orbs upon the man, striking him into stillness. It was a risk, Legolas knew, but it was impossible to deny the desire he felt welling in his body, and heart. What may be made tonight cannot live long; what is never made can never be crushed.'

When this quest is over, I will not abandon you. If that is your fear, it is unjustified.'

Legolas bowed his head. I speak not of that.'

I am mortal. Is that it?'

No.'

Aragorn's brow wrinkled in frustration, and he inadvertently switched to the common tongue. I dislike guessing games. Tell me of your fears and I will do my best to mollify them.

I ask you this: would you experience once, but never more; or never know, but never dream?'

I have been dreaming for months now.'

Legolas blushed beneath his pale complexion, the red tinge giving him a human quality. Then, I can admit my love for you.'

A passion flared deep within Aragorn at the words, soft with vulnerability. It was enough to allow the man to forget the questions that were never answered. Legolas, I may be a man, riddled with the impure blood of my ancestors, but I promise you my life. Just as you promised me yours, all those years ago.

Legolas' pupils dilated in defensiveness. Suddenly the barriers were back, stronger than before, and reinforced by a mysterious will. How did you know?'

The light tones of fear hinted themselves in Legolas' voice, and Aragorn understood. Before my parents passed beyond Middle Earth, they told me something of my infancy. There was once an elf, whose hair was a more brilliant gold than gold itself; but it was his voice that captured my parents, with its quiet, lilting speech, of an elvish accent, that reminded them of birds, for it was clearly the melody to their harmony. And you know what my parents said of this elf? Legolas simply shook his head, too shocked to respond. They said he promised me the hospitality of the elves, and his life.'

Aragorn leaned closer to Legolas, and whispered into his ear, And I told them, I would meet him one day, and thank him.'

A panicking fear rose, garbling itself in the elven throat. How had he let the situation become so uncontrolled? He jerked away from the tickling breath of air at his ear, and the tantalizing warmth fled. The practiced denial of self-appeasement replaced the earlier impulsiveness, effectively barring the words of love earlier professed; Legolas only saw that he threatened Middle Earth with his actions. A soft plea for escape shrouded his voice, We must return.'

Aragorn gazed at the elf's demeanor, hoping that something of what he said had affected Legolas. It was then the man almost gave up hope. The elven exterior was just as cold as it was warm, only moments before. 

There was a crack in the almost perfect mask, and that was what saved Aragorn from losing all hope. It shone in the unfocused eyes, hidden behind layers of protecting barriers. A well of sadness was hidden there, but at the core a stabilizing force – that of love. If destroying his heart was the way to save Aragorn, Legolas was prepared to give it.

Not all was lost, and the man continued to hope on the sliver of imperfection in the elf's guarded manner. Not a single of Aragorn's questions had been answered that night, for he had failed to gain any answers. But in failure, Aragorn knew, he had changed the elf so that he might succeed. The hope came unbidden, and Aragorn's attempts began anew. As they were rising to return, Aragorn's voice, gathering strength as it proceeded, ventured ahead. You have not answered any of my questions.

Galadriel stood above the mirror, still and silent as stone. The only interruptions were the soft erratic breaths and lonely tears dripping into the water. She sought to control herself intrinsically, but none of her long years lent her strength, only her exterior composure remained. How she hated the mirror for the burden it gave her.

Suddenly the clear water within the mirror darkened to a deep black. The stifled sobs gave themselves pause, and then broke out filling the woods with a wild cry. Haldir raced to the clearing to see Galadriel collapsed at the edge of the mirror, tremors shaking her entire frame.

Galadriel had seen them teeter at the edge, and their fateful fall. Their future was sealed.


	3. The Hope of Man

Sacrificing Happiness   
Part three: The Hope of Man  
By Angaaldaien 

Summary: The prophecy is fulfilled  
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas   
Rating: part 3- R   
Genre: Angst, drama, Action/Adventure  
Notes: The Aragorn and Arwen romance has disappeared, in fact, Arwen has seemingly disappeared… Does not exactly follow plot in either book or movie canon (closer to movie canon)- if you're a stickler for either, I suggest you don't read this. This is my first attempt at LOTR. Elvish is indicated by '…' and unspoken conversation with Galadriel by ~…~ Many thanks to all who have reviewed; it's what drove me to write the final chapter.  
Email: angaaldaien@hotmail.com   
Date of posting: 8/5/02   
Date of reposting: 5/05/03  
More Notes: Please excuse any discrepancies - I originally had a sex scene in part two but edited it out, and haven't the time to fine tune this chapter.

The keening cry echoed throughout the woods, waking the ring bearer and his sleeping companions. "Where is Aragorn?" Frodo questioned, afraid that the cry was from the man.

"And the elf," Gimly gruffly announced, brandishing his weapon against the trees. "Should not be a hard thing to think of, luring the man away while his companions attack us."

"You can't truly think that, Gimli!" Merry said, grinning from the way he saw Gimli gaze upon the Lady Galadriel.

"Stop your petty bickering," Boromir intervened. "Aragorn and Legolas could be in danger. Merry, Pippin, and I will search for them." He looked at the others for any disagreement. "Let's be off."

The small party found Aragorn being restrained by the elf. "Maybe Gimli was right," Pippin tittered to Merry, when he saw the delicate hand painfully grasping Aragorn's shoulder.

Aragorn glanced at his three companions with a tired sadness. "Legolas, unhold me."

Shame and an equal sadness tinged the elf's manner when he dropped his hand to the stone cold voice's command. "I will return to the campgrounds."

"Aragorn, what was that about?" Boromir inquired when Legolas left.

Aragorn gazed over the stream, attempting to sort the conflicting responses Legolas had given him. "He did not want to see to Galadriel," he murmured.

***

"You have not answered any of my questions."

Legolas mused, "Man is always full of hope, that in the darkest of situations he will find the light, even if there is none to be found. And in that hope, I will be strong as well." As if in realization, Legolas' body manner changed. He was lighter hearted, and his step quicker than before. A burden had been lost in Legolas' mind, for now, Legolas was truly ready to sacrifice his life for the man.

"Still you have not answered any of my questions," Aragorn insisted.

"I would that you ask me one to answer," Legolas returned, avoiding the seriousness in Aragorn's voice.

"What is it that you hide from me?"

It gave Legolas pause, as he carefully thought over the answer. "Tis an elvish secret, and one that I would surely die from if divulged." It was not a lie all together; Legolas knew that if the man died, he would die as well.

Aragorn glared at the elf. "Then tell me of your sadness."

But before Legolas could answer, a distressed cry echoed throughout the woods. "Galadriel," Aragorn hissed, moving in the direction of the sound.

A sudden jerk from his shoulder stopped the man. "Do not go to her; the mirror is her pain to bear alone." The grip upon Aragorn's shoulder intensified, and Aragorn was sure that Legolas reassured himself more than the man. The elf was afraid of what Galadriel saw, and the tension within Legolas' hand on his shoulder only proved it.

"As your pain is your own to bear?" Aragorn turned on the elf, angrily. "I should let you die of the anguish I see in your eyes? I should simply watch? I am not that kind of man, Legolas."

"And I would not have you pity me!" came the strangled reply, cut short by a sound only the elf heard. "The others are approaching."

***

The fellowship departed from the beauty of Lothlorien. The flowing river carried the eight away from the light, and Galadriel looked on, knowing she would never see one of their number again.

Gimli watched the lady grow smaller in the distance. What he saw, Legolas did not. The forest was a place of grief; the light so blinding in its attempt to disguise what was hidden within. The lone elf did not look back like the others.

The ships docked so the party could rest until the following day. They had traveled far from the woods, but spoken little. A silent sadness had swept the group into silence, and it was far from comfortable. But on land Legolas and Aragorn could no longer avoid each other.

Aragorn walked a distance into the trees, and Legolas followed. He was uneasy; he had been so since departure from Lothlorien and wished to leave. But it was no use pursuing the man to persuade him of this; Legolas too saw the fatigue of the others, they would not want to go any further. It was the man's stubbornness that did not allow him to forget about Legolas' secret, and it would be his stubbornness now. Instead, Legolas pursued him to aid him in what he knew was coming.

He had felt it once they docked. The uncanny sense that only elves possessed alerted him to the danger nearby. The darkness had struck him so forcibly that he nearly grasped onto Boromir for support. It was ever so soon. Indeed, the man had realized his love too late.

Legolas saw what Galadriel knew in her eyes. One of them was to die. It would be him; he would have it no other way.

Aragorn did not suspect the elf of following him, so wandered through the trees undisguised. He looked not at the nature surrounding him; it all dimmed in comparison to Legolas' beauty. There was nothing the man could think of to help the elf he desperately wanted to understand. He had thought he had succeeded in uncovering the elf's mask, but he had only cracked it. And in truth, his hope was dying for it seemed the mask fit too well on the elf's face. He loved Legolas with a passion, he would do anything for the elf, and demanded naught but love in return. Legolas had given that, but there was something more he hid.

Aragorn understood, at the same instant an arrow whisked by his head, imbedding itself in the tree beyond.

There was something hidden. Hidden out of love.

Anduril was out of its scabbard before the hoards of orcs arrived. Where the lonely arrow had come from, Aragorn neglected to determine. He failed to notice the fine markings that could only be elvish.

The orcs poured through the trees, changing the former beauty into something hideously ugly. They snarled, and smelt the air. There was man, and there was elf. The elvish scent perfumed the air, agitating their already aggressive nature. Battle lust consumed them, and they raced towards the prey.

Aragorn thanked the trees for their cover, although they were not dense enough to hinder his abilities. He swiped at the raging seething mass of orcs, and squeals of pain greeted his sword. Nevertheless the man was still retreating; with each swipe of his sword he took a step back. A shape flitted in the trees above but Aragorn did not spare a look in its direction. There was hardly enough time to react to the multiple attacks as it was. Sword and battle-ax sought to dismember him, but it was impossible to touch the man skilled in the elvish art of battle.

The orcish mass left behind a bloody trail of dead, but continued to surge forwards, dodging the trees with increasing skill. They ignored the dead and wounded, needful to taste the man's blood. After a few tense minutes the wave began to slightly subside, and Aragorn felt victorious, even as the sweat dripped into his eyes, momentarily clouding his vision of the carnage. Suddenly his short ragged breaths flew from him, and he was forced backwards. Aragorn gasped for air as his back contacted a firm tree, swiping the sweat from his eyes.

Legolas materialized from above, his long blond hair streaming as he gracefully leapt to the ground. "Do not stand!" Aragorn yelled, when he saw the creature behind the fair elf. But it was too late. Heedless to anything Aragorn said, Legolas stood. Within seconds Legolas had been pierced through the shoulder, the elven blood quickly staining his tunic. Moments later a second arrow found its way through Legolas' ribcage, revealing the white of bone. The slim body jerked forwards with the attack, splaying blood across the green grass, and onto the man.

The elf stumbled into Aragorn's arms, and both were leaning upon the tree for support. A great burden was lifted from Legolas' heart and he was content; Middle Earth was saved. The moisture accumulated within Legolas' eyes when he saw Aragorn, and the hopeless shock reflected within. "Why? Why did you do this?" Aragorn desperately asked. The harshness of his voice grated upon his ears, and he wished to block all sound. His hand found the tip of the arrow that had gone through the elf's shoulder, as if confirming that this was reality.

"I never thought I would die," Legolas whispered weakly, "for love of a man." The elf felt no pain, only regret at not having the time to share anything further with the man.

The battle paused around the man and elf, as the orcs watched the elf die. They grunted and hissed, relishing the sweet smell of elven blood, dripping its way down the tips of the arrows. But the Uruk-hai that had shot the arrow held the tide back; his leadership was undisputed, despite the growing agitation of his underlings.

Aragorn felt the desperate need to cackle into the wind, throwing all consciousness away. How could it be that the single being he would ever come to love would die but the next day? A tear seeped from the tired eyes. As the elven immortality leaked from Legolas' veins, Aragorn's hope dwindled, and he likewise felt his strength draining.

"You must save Middle Earth." Legolas reached a hand around the man's back and whispered, "You will survive." Tender lips found the man in a final goodbye.

The last of the elven strength that Legolas possessed gathered to his will. In one fluid motion Legolas yanked the bow from behind Aragorn's back, cocked an arrow while turning to face the Uruk-hai that stood watching, grinning ludicrously. It too had prepared another arrow, aimed with a deadly accuracy. Within a second both arrows were loosed, and both found their mark deep within the other's heart. Legolas jerked backwards, and a sigh of escaping air passed back into Middle Earth. 

Aragorn caught the elf, but had little time but to place him at the base of the tree. The tide had broken with the death of its leader, and the hoard surged towards the man and elf, dripping with greed to taste the blood of elves.

Anger rose from the depths of Aragorn's soul, shrouding all other feeling of loss and pain. It enveloped him entirely, and the man knew nothing but rage. Orc after orc fell beneath his sword. A flash of light and another squeal echoed from the woods. The man did not tire, for to tire meant to face the bitter reality.

To Boromir, who fought the orcs a small distance away, Aragorn looked like the epitome of man. He stood valiantly over the fallen elf, eyes and blade flashing death. He was covered in blood, but none of it was his own, and his relentless attack had no end. But Boromir could not see the salty tears that blotted the man's vision. They flowed from him in a flood that did not cease, for there was no happiness to be found.

Eventually the orcs receded, repelled by the seemingly tireless efforts of the fellowship. By then, life had at long last passed from the ancient body of the elf. He had come to rest haphazardly against the tree, but his face tilted upwards, as if searching the sky. He was cold to the touch, and colder still in his eyes. Aragorn knelt above the elf, his warm tears splashing onto the pale elven face. Aragorn closed Legolas' eyes; they saw nothing any more. The glassiness that glazed over them left the man shaken more than he cared to admit. He had seen dead men before, but a dead elf was something else, something forbidden. That such a creature of light could die was horrific.

The birds began to titter in the trees. Nature was attempting to heal itself of the sorrows it had faced. Aragorn was reminded of Legolas' voice, its sweet melodious tone forever lost to him but in memory; sadness encroached upon his thoughts. It had been so long ago in Rivendell.

Even yesterday felt like ages. It could not have been the passing of but a day, wherein his love was realized and then lost. A terrible grief consumed the man's heart. Aragorn recalled what Legolas had said last, "You must save Middle Earth." What was there to save in it when the elf was gone?

His thoughts drifted to the memories of yesterday. The elf had promised the fulfillment of love one time, and then no more. Legolas had known. Frustrated anger clouded the gray eyes. "Then why?" Aragorn demanded seeking the answer where he knew none would come.

Instead the answer arose from another memory. Hope. Legolas had hoped that in death he would mean more than in life.

"Then, I will hope that you are right in saving my life," Aragorn told the elf. A lifetime of happiness had been lost and could not be replaced, but hope remained, and its strength was sufficient enough.

Boromir placed his hand upon Aragorn's shoulder in brotherly comfort. The last remaining tears ceased their flow, for there was still something more to fight for. "We cannot dally, my king." A deep reverence shaded Boromir's voice. He had come to accept Aragorn's succession as king.

"We shall not," Aragorn's voice rose in authority. "Return to gather our things, I will follow."

Boromir's footsteps retreated to the distance, and Aragorn returned to the fallen elf. Legolas was as pale in death as he was in life, but never this cold. It was like the elf had frozen into porcelain, his face unmarred by naught but tears. And this perfection had been Aragorn's, for a moment, and then lost. Aragorn unsheathed his dagger and placed it against the elf's temple. He sliced a braid from the golden head, and pocketed the flaxen hair. "May your hope strengthen my will to live."

A tender kiss to the flawless skin of Legolas' forehead marked the last warmth. "Goodbye," Aragorn whispered so that he heard alone. Andruil found its rightful place on Aragorn's belt, and the woods were left to themselves to reflect upon the damages that the One Ring's passage had caused. The birds tittered calling warning to each other, and then withdrew into the distance.

Legolas was left in the cold, his sacrifice complete.

END

Endnotes: An epilogue has been written to elaborate upon the success and demise of Aragorn; a prologue will be inserted, to explain the mysterious prophecy. I'm also speculating upon writing an alternate ending (since this one was so hard to write) that is happier. Please review.


	4. Epilouge

Sacrificing Happiness   
Epilogue: The End of an Era  
By Angaaldaien

Summary: Middle Earth lives past the war, but is changed in such fundamental ways that no one of old can bear it.  
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas   
Rating: epilogue- PG   
Genre: Angst, drama   
Notes: The Aragorn and Arwen romance has disappeared, in fact, Arwen has seemingly disappeared Does not follow plot in either book or movie canon- if you're a stickler for either, I suggest you don't read this. This is my first attempt at LOTR. Elvish is indicated by ' and unspoken conversation with Galadriel by ~~  
Email: angaaldaien@hotmail.com  
Date of posting: 8/6/02

The memory of Sauron was still recent in many minds, but the young children of the newest generation knew little of his threat. They heard stories of the darkness, and the time when the king had saved them all. Rapt attention was given to any and all who would speak of it, for few would touch upon matters so dark. Many more unsuccessfully hid the repercussions of the war.

Aragorn, the king of men, was one such person.

For the man, Middle Earth was a shallow husk, even as life blatantly displayed itself. His gardens held no joy, the vibrant flowers which opened to the sun wilted beneath his gaze. He could not see beauty in anything; after all that he had seen and done, it was impossible to return to a life of peaceful living. Aragorn simply did not belong. He longed for the comfort of one he had lost; he pined for a day of reunion, a day that would never come.

His subjects had offered their services. Many young men and women had given their bodies to him, and he had taken them. But none of them loved him, and he loved none of them. It was merely sexual relief, a temporary escape from the reality that haunted him. Eventually even that lost its appeal, and the king embodied the same husk that he saw in Middle Earth.

The hollowness of Middle Earth was only felt by the men of old. Those who remembered the elves knew that nothing else compared to them in their grace and holiness. All else paled next to their exquisite beauty, it has always been so, but without the elves the men of old knew it more. The elves had departed long ago, their farewells but distant memories now. The dwarves were also retreating from the growing world of men. Deeper and farther into their mines they went, and hardly any would see the light of day again. Even the hobbits could not compete with man. Middle Earth was dying, inside out. Eventually, Aragorn saw, all would become a myth of another time.

Already, no one but he remembered the elf who had saved the king. The stories told of the king's gallant deeds, of his endless courage and skill in battle. He had been raised by the elves! was the only thing that tied him to the race that had left. None knew of an elf from Mirkwood who journeyed with the fellowship, and died an early death. Legolas' strength had carried Aragorn on to become the king he had not meant to be. But now, years later, the strength had eddied away. There had been a time when the flaxen braid would remind the man, and sustain his hope, but it too had passed with the years.

The people of Gondor speculated over why their king had not chosen a mate. An heir had been named, and in fact led the kingdom while Aragorn spent his days alone, but no mate had been chosen. They had stories, but none were true, since none knew of the elf. Some said he was in love with himself. And they were the closest of all.

Before the elves had departed from Middle Earth, Galadriel had visited the kingdom of Gondor. In her hands she carried the mirror, a gift. Do not use it until your duty to your kingdom is complete,' she had warned. Faithful to the wise elf's words, Aragorn all but forgot about the magical item.

Now, Aragorn could not think of anything but it. From the first moment he had poured water into it, and gazed into its clearness, he knew that Galadriel's warning had been necessary. An image of Legolas shimmered into being, the long dead elf gazing at him in love.

His heart tore in longing, and Aragorn no longer wished to linger in Middle Earth. Everyday from sun up to sundown, the man would look into the mirror, seeing the past. He saw the fellowship, what they had been, and what they became. He saw the many looks of love Legolas had given to him that were hidden by grief. He saw himself as a baby, pulling the golden hair of the elf, and he saw Legolas' promise of so long ago. Only by the violent urging of his servants could the king be pulled from the past that the mirror revealed. But he returned each day, to see the elf he had lost; his only happiness lay in the looking glass.

So when it broke, from careless handling, the days of the king grew short. With sadness, the kingdom mourned the passing of their savior. There had once been a time for men like the king, but it had left, and with him an era slipped away.

And then, he too, became but a legend.

END

Endnotes: This was more heart wrenching than the final chapter of the story, for me at least. I think I'm going to write a happy alternate ending now.

An epilogue of the epilogue (ahh.. what am I doing? *bunnies bounce*):  
  


Genre: AU  
Notes: A plot bunny springs, futuristic continuation from the epilogue above.  
Warning: Will probably not be continued

Centuries passed by, and even legends were forgotten in favor of science. Logic prevailed in the society that man created when left to his own whims, unhindered by other sentient races. Secrets better left untouched were discovered, for magic had left the world long before, and man sought alternate ways to complete similar tasks. His desire to control nature brought him further than any being should go, for even such fundamental concepts as age were tampered with.

A braid the width of a centimeter but a length of approximately half a foot was being examined. This specimen, it appears, has survived time before our records. Statistics began to be rattled off, but of most particular interest was the one concerning DNA. The DNA structure of specimen 2009564 is approximately eighty point five percent human. Similar DNA structures include general physicality- centrifugal nerve structure, upright stature, cephalization, and bilateral symmetry; hair and eye color traits are identical to recessive blond and blue. Height appears to be equal to average human today, but body mass slimmer. DNA differentiates in the following major sections: metabolism, brain structure, and age.

Expand upon the genes for age.

That's the thing, Mr. Fallic, there are no genes for age.

Mr. Fallic rubbed his stubble thoughtfully. This could be the break that he had been looking for. He knew the specimen would prove worthwhile for study, how else could it have withstood the damages of time and still appear relatively unharmed? The private sponsors had been waiting for reports of progress in his study of the aging process and its prevention, and were growing more impatient by the day. How are our funds doing? Do we have enough to clone?

The assistant glanced his clipboard. Not a creature this large.

Schedule a meeting with the board tomorrow.

Mr. Fallic, I warn you, this braid belongs to a sentient creature. The possible consequences of cloning could be serious.

Don't think I didn't know that! Mr. Fallic lashed out. His hands flew to their familiar position at his temples, massaging them in silence. I don't think you understand. We are on the brink of losing our support. If we do not do something with the funds they give us soon, something tangible that our sponsors could potentially use, we are out of a job. These are private people sponsoring us; they don't have patience with time.

Yes, Mr. Fallic. You're right. I'll schedule it. But I can't help but be apprehensive.

I know, I know. The hands still massaged the temples. I'll mention it to them. It'll ultimately be up to them.

The braid was left out on the table. A couple more days would not harm it, when centuries of loneliness had already passed. It had been long since the braid had been severed from its source, but a mysterious light still shone from its depths, as if expecting the imminent return.


	5. Prelude Galadriel's Prophecy Unveiled

Sacrificing Happiness  
Prelude  
By Angaaldaien  
  
Summary: The future of Middle Earth is revealed to Galadriel  
  
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas  
  
Rating: Prelude - PG-13/R?  
  
Genre: Angst  
  
Notes: The Prelude to Sacrificing Happiness was written after part two, in an effort to postpone writing a final chapter (I almost don't want to write it!). This is written for clarification of what Galadriel saw in the mirror in its initial prophecy only, the one made at Aragorn's birth, which was not supposed to have affiliation to the final chapter, but did anyhow.  
  
Email: Angaaldaien@hotmail.com  
  
Date: 8/3/02  
  
The darkness grew in Galadriel's heart; she could feel the power of Mordor resurfacing. Everyday she would gaze within the mirror, for it was her lonely duty to tell what the magical piece revealed. Sometimes past, sometimes present, and sometimes future revealed itself. The past affected the present, the present affects the future, and Galadriel was the wisest in all factors that changed the lives of Middle Earth. She could see beyond what the mirror had to show, and that was the main reason why the burden had been placed upon her. The sea had called her, but with the mirror that calling had been subdued. Responsibility weighted her soul, so that she appeared a thing of light, but the mirror had destroyed all ignorance, leaving a harsh core within.  
  
The sunken clearing in which the mirror lay was visited in the early morning of each day. In the center shone the brilliant silver mirror. Routinely, Galadriel poured the water in and gazed into her reflection. The clear water darkened to show another place.  
  
A small baby materialized in the center of Galadriel's vision. Around it soft voices whispered. Suddenly the scene changed to that of the future, a handsome man tearing through the forest, large figures surrounding him, chasing him. He was clumsy as most men are, but there was a grace, and Galadriel saw that he fought like the elves. He was an amazing creature, and his sword flashed with death to the dark figures attacking him. Something larger than an orc materialized, carrying a crossbow that the man did not notice. It purposefully raised the bow and aimed an arrow to the valiant heart of the man. The arrow flew.  
  
But it never reached him. Suddenly a blond figure materialized between him and the arrow. The arrow pierced the being through, and blood began to bleed into his clothing. A second arrow found it's way through the body, but there was no pain in his eyes. The bright blue pinpoints professed love, even as his body was wracked with a third arrow. The man had long since stopped fighting the orcs, but it was no longer necessary for they had stopped too.  
  
Galadriel knew there was only one thing that the orcs were drawn to more than man. And that was elf. The orcs surrounded man and elf, eagerly watching the elf die. Their saliva pooled, they wanted to taste the elf as he died, but it seemed that the one who shot the arrows did not want it.  
  
The man struggled with his feelings, for his face reflected many. But the elf had not enough time for them all to be expressed. "Why?" the man finally decided upon.  
  
"Was a prophecy, long ago," the elf replied. "But from love I do this, not fate."  
  
Angry tears shimmered at the words; the man had long loved the elf unrealized. But it was too late, and Galadriel felt his pain like a stab to her own heart. Another breathe from the elf and he whispered, "You must save Middle Earth."  
  
The scene shifted yet again. The land was green with life, flowing with something akin to relief. But the man looked older. His face reflected a lifetime, although no more than a year could have passed. His hand found his pocket, pulling out a lock of braided hair. The man inhaled its scent; Galadriel saw his sadness when it smelt of dirt and grime. He whispered, "It is done, Legolas." His strength subsided and he lay down to the ground.  
  
Galadriel shivered, her legs buckled and she knelt below the mirror. Legolas, the youngest prince of Mirkwood. How this would come to pass, Galadriel knew not. But the future had revealed itself, and its key players were this man and Legolas. 


End file.
